Harry Potter and the OTHER Azkaban Story
by Carolus Sceler
Summary: Seeing as how everyone is writing a fic where Harry is betrayed and sent to Azkaban, here's mine. This one is slightly different, though.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: The start of the story make seem a bit angsty, but don't worry, everything is not as it seems.**

**September 1st, 1996**

"Harry James Potter!"

He kept his head down, as he had throughout the entire trial, refusing to meet the eyes of the Wizengamot.

"The Court has finished their deliberations. Naturally, you have been found guilty on all counts, and for this, you will spend the rest of your miserable existence in Azkaban. Do you have any last words?" He said the last part with a demonic sneer, tempting the Boy-Who-Murdered to defy the fate so justly imposed upon him.

Seeing that Potter had done nothing to indicate he had even heard the presiding Ministry official, the official motioned to the Aurors to take him away to the holding area, where he would be portkeyed to Azkaban to begin serving his sentence. As soon as they grabbed onto his arms to forcibly escort him away, Harry Potter looked up sharply.

Every person in that courtroom would remember the look on his face till the end of their days. The look was one of pure loathing for all it came across. Most people averted their eyes, too ashamed to look Harry Potter in the face. Sure, they thought, he hadn't been given the fairest of trials, but there was no need. The evidence was insurmountable. Also, there were only two people in the world who actually thought him innocent. Surely against such odds one would have to think him guilty?

Though his body was in shambles, the eyes of Harry Potter were ablaze. He opened his mouth for the first time in the entire trial.

"You all," he croaked, his voice raspy from unuse, "will one day face judgment for your sins against man. Though this day may be a long way off, when it does come, the righteous anger of God will not be stopped, and the guilty shall be consumed in hellfire. You have been warned," he managed to get out before collapsing.

An eerie silence hung over the entire courtroom after this pronouncement. The presiding official sneered again, completely unaffected by the words, and waved the Aurors out. They departed, if somewhat nervously, dragging the limp body of Harry Potter between them.

The moment they had exited and the doors closed again, the gallery, which had hereunto remained silent, exploded in a cacophony of rumors and speculation. No one knew quite how to take the last words they thought they would ever hear from the Boy-Who-Lived. In a corner of the gallery close to the Wizengamot's platform, a sea of red hair was in hurried conversation with a silver-haired man with a long beard.

"Albus, what was that all about?" queried Molly Weasley nervously.

"Isn't it obvious?" stated her youngest son, named Ron. "He was just trying to intimidate us into freeing him so he could go and join his master."

"Now, Mr. Weasley, as much as I would love to agree with you, as it would make things so much simpler, we cannot merely write off his words as those of a sly Dark Wizard. I do not believe that he is capable of such Slytherin thinking, such strategies have never been his strong point. I simply think that he has gone insane. That is the only logical explanation."

A lone sniffle escaped from a lone figure at the back of the group. Everyone turned to this girl, who was sitting with her head in her hands, a white handkerchief dabbing at her eyes.

"Ginny, stop your sobbing, it's annoying. I won't live with someone who supports a Dark Wizard," said Ron smugly.

"Then you'll have to leave," replied Ginny, not even looking up.

"Me, leave? No, I believe that it will be you who would do the leaving, you blood traitor."

She finally looked up, and saw the same expressions coming out of everyone's face. Utter hatred. Even her parents were now looking at her with revulsion. She now knew what Harry had said was the absolute truth. She also knew what she now had to do.

"Now, now, let's all go and have ourselves dinner, hmm?" said Dumbledore, looking happier than he had in months, happier than he had since Harry had been arrested.

"Yes," said Mrs. Weasley, "I'll have to start on dinner if we want to eat tonight!" she joked nervously.

With that, they all preceded to the Ministry Atrium, where they took a portkey back to the Burrow.

Two hours later, all of those who had been at the sentencing had sat down to one of Mrs. Weasley's excellent dinners. All of those except Ginny, who had stomped off to her room as soon as they had arrived. Ron made to follow her and slap some sense into her, but was held back by Dumbledore.

"Let her go, Ron, she'll snap out of it with time. After reality finally sinks in, she'll come back, we'll all have a good laugh, and everything will be fine again."

Reassured by his words, Ron went to the kitchen to help his mother.

It was at this point during the dinner that a crash was heard from upstairs. Knowing the only one up there was Ginny, her mother clicked her tongue impatiently and went up to find out what the noise was, and to tell Ginny that her dinner was getting cold. She knocked at Ginny door, but there was no answer. After five minutes of knocking and calling her name, Molly was getting annoyed. By this time, the rest of the occupants of the house had joined her. Mrs. Weasley tried the door knob, but it was found to be locked. Even more annoyed, she drew her wand and muttered, "Alohamora!" This was found to have no effect, as the door still wouldn't budge.

Meanwhile, Dumbledore had arrived, and was staring at the door strangely. He shook his head. "This is very odd," he commented. "There are no living things in that room."

"She must have jumped out the window!" cried Ron. "Like a spoilt five-year-old, running away. How immature," he finished arrogantly. He had his arm around his newly aquired girlfriend Hermione Granger, and they were both looking awfully smug lately. They had been key witnesses in the trial against Potter, and were known to have been grossly rewarded for it.

"Moreso than that, there is a locking charm on this door. It is too powerful for your daughter to have cast it. She has neither the raw magical power, nor the intelligence to cast such a spell."

Molly looked shocked at this, and raised her wand once again. This time, though, the door fell away, its hinges having been detached from the frame. She looked inside the room, and fainted straight away. The rest look in to see what had caused her to faint, and a few joined her.

In the middle of the room, hanging from one of the support beams running across the ceiling, was a rope, and this rope was around the neck of Ginny Weasley. She was unmistakably dead.

At her feet were an upturned stool (the cause of the crash that had driven them to come up to investigate), and a single sheet of parchment.

Albus Dumbledore walked over and picked up the parchment and read it aloud.

"_I hope you're happy. You're rid of the blood traitor now. I only hope that someone punishes you for your crimes. I'd say see you when you get here, though I'm sure the lot of you will be going straight to hell. Ginny."_

"I only hope we've done the right thing, Ginny, but I know it was necessary for the greater good. Oh well, another promising talent lost…"

**Meanwhile, on Azkaban Island….**

Ever since the Dementors had left, Aurors had to patrol the halls of the prison and attend to the needs of the prisoners. On this particular day at this particular time, a lone Auror was walking through the maximum security block dispensing dinner.

It wasn't as if he was in much danger, as most of these prisoners were insane and unable to think clearly, much less rush him when he had the door open. Add to that the two dementors who accompanied him, and there was very little risk of an altercation. He paused in front of a certain door. This prisoner had just been brought to the island that afternoon, and would be getting his first taste of Azkaban food. The Auror chuckled at that; he had tried the food given to the prisoners once and had thrown up violently, it was so awful. He pitied anyone who had to eat this for the rest of their days, as most of the prisoners in this block would.

He took the massive ring of keys from his belt and unlocked the door. As he pulled it open, a breeze came out from inside the cell. Shrugging this off as a sudden gust from the window, he peered into the cell. What he saw made him loose his dinner.

Lying in a pool of blood in the middle of the floor was Harry Potter. His wrists had been slashed, probably by the small switchblade in his hand. Recovering himself, the Auror walked in and tried to find a pulse. There was none. He shook his head, and closed his eyes, murmuring about how much of a waste it was.

Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, was dead.

**September 1st, 2016**

Dumbledore sighed as he looked around the Great Hall during the welcoming feast. It was less than half full. Every year's class seemed to get smaller and smaller. The threat of attack from Voldemort's army kept most parents from sending their children to Hogwarts. As it was, two students had been killed when the Hogwarts Express came under attack, and many others were wounded.

He then looked at his fellow professors at the High Table. Here, too, there were gaps, as some subjects had to be dropped due to a lack of qualified teachers. Few graduates could be spared to teach, as everyone was needed for immediate service in the war. Hermione Weasley was sitting where McGonagall used to sit. She had been assassinated, and Mrs. Weasley was one of the few qualified to take her place. Defense Against the Dark Arts was taught by her husband, Ronald Weasley. Ron had spent ten years as an Auror, and was one of the most successful, and ruthless. Little was taught in that class save how to capture or kill Dark Wizards. Snape still taught Potions, though his role as a spy for Voldemort had been compromised, and he could now not leave the castle for fear of assassination. Flitwick was still teaching charms, and Sprout still taught Herbology. Binns would probably outlast them all, as he had little to fear by way of death.

However, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, Astronomy, Care of Magical Creatures, Muggle Studies, and Divination had all been cut, as they were considered unnecessary to the war effort.

The war was going badly, to put it bluntly. Assassinations and attacks were almost commonplace. No one was safe anymore. Hogwarts was pretty much the only safe place left, the one place Voldemort dared not attack. Yet.

It was times like these that he cursed Harry Potter for killing himself. Dumbledore never intended him to sit in prison for the rest of his life. Once he was completely broken, Dumbledore would have removed him from the prison, and then sent him to kill Voldemort. After which, he would have been sent back to prison on another trumped-up charge.

In truth, it was Dumbledore himself who had murdered all the people in Harry's year except Harry, Ron, and Hermione. He then convinced Ron and Hermione to testify against Harry, which was disgustingly easy to do, and planted evidence to convince everyone else. All this was necessary, as Harry was developing far to much of an independent streak, and needed to be controlled for the greater good. And the best way to break someone was to throw them in Azkaban. Harry didn't have the kind of control that Sirius Black had, so he wouldn't be able to stay normal. But the damned kid had to sneak a small knife in and commit suicide. In a way, though, the suicide of Ginny Weasley was a good thing. It even more firmly convinced Ron that all Dark Wizards were bad, and needed to be killed, enabling him to be a better Auror. Ginny was inconsequential; she, like the rest in Harry's year, would not play a major role in the coming war, and were quite expendable.

That all was twenty years done, though. People from that time were getting on in years, and were now taking more of a support role in the war. Thirty-six-year-olds were too old to be field Aurors. Ron and Hermione were no longer the teenagers they had been. Both were showing the signs of age. Both of their hairs were graying already, and both had lines on their faces, though surely not as many as Dumbledore himself.

'Ah, well,' thought Dumbledore, 'life goes on.'

The teachers were roused from their melancholy thoughts by everyone at High Table being picked up and flung from their seats.

Dumbledore laughed at the first prank of the new year. It was amusing, as the term had yet to start and already it was starting. He didn't know who had done it, as there were no major pranksters left. The times were too serious to spend any time on such frivolous things. It was good to see someone was not taking life so seriously for once.

He then noticed the looks of fear on the faces of every student, and the fact all had their eyes locked on the High Table. Frowning, he looked back at the table over his shoulder.

The entire table was cast in darkness, as all the candles had gone out. The only light came from a column of light shining down on the seat Dumbledore had just left. It was coming from the ceiling, which was now showing a blue sky covered in clouds. This was exceedingly odd, as it was a clear night, and the ceiling was supposed to reflect the conditions outside.

Dumbledore then noticed Ron Weasley, clearly unimpressed, start to stride back towards the table, set on setting things to rights. Imagine his surprise when he was lifted off his feet and placed back where he had been sitting on the floor, near the other professors.

As soon as Ron was comfortably back on his knees on the floor, an orb of light started to descend in the middle of the column above the headmaster's seat. As it floated down, what sounded like a choir of angels burst into song, singing,

"Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honour, and glory, and blessing. Blessing, and honour, glory and power, be unto Him that sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb for ever and ever. Amen."

Even the most stoic of people in the hall were openly showing their fear. When the orb was just above the seat, it started to stretch and change. It took on the form of a man. Behind the man, two wings unfurled, and stretched out behind him.

Slowly, the light surrounding what now appeared to be an angel of God receded, and they were able to get a look at him. Hermione, who had sharp eyes (though no one knew how she kept them with all the reading she did), seemed to recognize the angel, as she fainted. While Ron was tending to her, Dumbledore squinted at the being sitting in his chair. He appeared to be around 18, with long black hair tied behind him, and…green eyes.

Upon seeing those eyes again, Dumbledore joined Hermione on the floor.

The man stood up and chuckled.

"That wasn't the welcome I was expecting."

With a wave of his hand, the ceiling changed back to reflecting the outside, and the light surrounding his chair vanished. The wings on his back disappeared, and his clothes changed from dazzling white to Hogwarts black, though of a quality none could match.

The candles then came back on.

While he was working wonders, Ron was trying to help his two favorite people in the world with their little fainting spell. He happened to glance back at the High Table just as the lights were coming back on. What he saw made him forget all about Hermione and Dumbledore.

Harry Potter was standing at the front of the Great Hall, looking around at the shocked faces with an amused look on his face.

"I haven't silenced you all, you can speak."

Ron was seeing red. The person responsible for all those deaths, including his sister's, albeit indirectly, was standing there smirking. He would have to end this himself. He jumped up from the floor and drew his wand.

"Avada Kedavra!" he screamed with as much force as he could muster.

An enormous bolt of green energy shot at Harry at blinding speed. He looked at impending doom and smiled, taking in right in the chest.

It was now Ron who was smirking; Potter had obviously wanted to die. 'Imagine the reward I'll get for killing Potter,' he thought.

He then noticed that Potter was still standing there, still smirking.

"Nice to see you too, Ron."

**A/N: How did Harry survive? What will Ron do? Where is Ginny? And will Dumbledore and Hermione ever wake up? Tune in next week to find out.**


	2. Chapter 2

Understandably, Ron was a bit put out that his most trustworthy spell hadn't worked. However, as he still had vengeance to get, he unleashed a barrage of extremely powerful curses, most of them Dark enough to give the caster a life sentence in Azkaban, if not the Kiss.

Seeing the many life-ending curses flying at him, Potter's annoying smirk widened into a demented grin, and he raised his hand, palm out, to the oncoming spells.

In mid-flight, the spells, for a lack of a better term, dissolved into thin air, leaving a flabbergasted hall and a still-smirking Potter.

It was at this time that Hermione chose to rejoin the world around her. The entire hall, save Dumbledore, was now staring at Harry Potter, who was sitting in Dumbledore's chair, apparently oblivious to the attention. Minutes past.

Finally, the great wizard Dumbledore awoke. He looked around at everyone staring slack-jawed at the figure at the High Table. He turned to Ron, who was looking moreso.

"What did you try?" asked Dumbledore calmly.

"I…I…used the…killing curse, but…err…it…it didn't work," responded Ron weakly.

Disturbed, though not showing it, Dumbledore turned back to Potter and examined him. He looked a lot like the Harry Potter who had been accused of murder, not showing anything that would give out the fact that he had, presumably, been on the run for the past twenty years. There were many differences, though. He was now almost six and a half feet tall, a far cry from the five and a half he had left with. His black hair was cut short, and he seemed to have tamed it to some extent. He was wearing black robes, and had a broadsword at his side. A wand was nowhere in sight, though this was not surprising, as Dumbledore still had his wand in his office, along with the rest of his possessions.

All in all, Dumbledore would have to guess that Harry was around 18, rather than the 36 he should be. This was the most disconcerting fact of all, as it was never a good thing when people mysteriously stop aging.

'It's time to find out what's going on,' thought Dumbledore. Severus had assured him that Potter had absolutely no talent for Occlumency, and, as Severus was one of the foremost Occlumens in the world, Dumbledore was under the impression that he would easily be able to poke around Harry's mind.

He summoned his wand to his hand, and cried out, "Legilimens!"

Potter made no move to stop of dodge the attack, but took it with that same annoying smirk.

Feeling a poke at his mental defenses, Harry latched on to the thread from Dumbledore's mind. He tied the thread to his mind to prevent Dumbledore's escape, and followed it back into Dumbley's consciousness. He met Dumbledore's mental shields, which, while formidable, were feeble compared to his. Not bothering to be stealthy, Harry tore down the shields and entered his mind.

Rifling through the Headmaster's thoughts, Harry quickly found the information he needed to clear his own name. He had long suspected Dumbledore of treachery, but had never had the evidence to prove it. He then found a few other pieces of information that would also aid him. Withdrawing back to his own mind, he flooded the link with feelings of anguish and betrayal. He then severed the link, and looked at Dumbledore through his corporal eyes. He saw the Headmaster lying on the floor with his head in his hands, screaming in pain. The other professors looked clueless as to what to do to help him.

"I must be stronger than I thought," Harry chuckled darkly.

"What did you do to him!" cried Hermione.

"Nothing!" cried Harry mockingly. "He brought this on himself!"

"What did we all do to deserve this?" lamented Hermione.

"Well," responded Harry, "you and Ron didn't do anything."

"What are you talking about, Potter?" growled Ron.

"This!" he said, and waved his hand at the two of them, while shouting "_Imperium Relashio_!"

Ron and Hermione's expressions glazed over for a few seconds. Then, as if their brains were rebooting, they shook off the Imperius Curse both had been under.

Standing up, they both aimed a swift kick at the still-twitching form of the Headmaster and walked up to Harry, the shields not banishing them this time. Hermione gave Harry a bone-crushing hug, though Ron simply shook his hand with a scarcely improved expression on his face.

"What's wrong, Ron?" he queried.

Ron looked around at him. "Even though what Dumbledore, and what we did to you is inexcusable, you are still responsible for my only sister being dead."

"Dead? My dear Ron, rumors of both of our deaths have been greatly exaggerated. Let me show you. Ginny!" he called out.

Another orb of light dropped from the ceiling, though this time without the fanfare that accompanied Harry's arrival. It stretched and changed into a shorter, more feminine form. As the light cleared, they were able to make out the form of a teenage girl, with long red hair and large brown eyes.

Standing in front of them was an eighteen year old Ginny Weasley.

Ron dropped all pretenses upon seeing his thought-dead sister and rushed over to her, throwing her into a hug that would make his mother jealous.

"It looks like we now have the title of being the only light family not to loose a member in the war!" said Ron happily.

Stepping away from Ron, Ginny looked down. "I'm afraid you're wrong, brother. You did loose me."

Ron looked confused. "But you are still alive, aren't you?" he said with a note of panic in his voice, looking around from Ginny to Harry.

"Of course, contrary to popular belief, Ginny and I are both very much alive. The whole angel thing was my idea. I have a love for dramatic flair," said Harry dismissively.

"Then what…."

"You didn't loose me to death, Ron. I'm just no longer a Weasley."

Ron, being his usual clueless self, kept looking back and forth between Harry and Ginny for an explanation. Hermione, however, squealed with delight and threw herself at Ginny, hugging the woman she once considered a sister.

"I'm so happy for you," said Hermione.

"Would someone please tell me what's going on?" asked Ron.

"Honestly, Ron, her name just isn't Ginny Weasley any more," responded Hermione.

"Then what is it?"

At this point, Harry started banging his head on the table in front of him.

"Ron, what are the two ways a girl can leave her family?" asked Ginny in a tired voice.

"Well, there's obviously death, but the only other way is…..oh."

"Oh? That's all you have to say?"

"When did mum disown you?"

Harry waved his hand, conjuring a bottle of whiskey and a shot glass.

"For Merlin's sake, Ron! I got married! My name is Ginny POTTER now!"

"Ah…Harry?"

"Yes, Ron?"

"You are aware that Ginny is my sister?"

"Yes, Ron."

"So you are aware what my brothers and I will do to you if you hurt her?"

"Er…Ron?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"Are you aware of the significance of the fifteenth of September?"

"That's in two weeks?"

"Yes, precisely."

"No."

"Well, it will be Ginny's and my twentieth wedding anniversary."

"So, you've kept going for quite a while, then."

"Yes, Ron."

"And you've been married more than twice as long as Hermione and I."

"Yes, Ron."

"And you are still going strong?"

"I can't remember the last time we've ever argued."

"I don't think the speech is really necessary, then."

"Nor do I, Ron."

"Then, congratulations, mate."

"Thanks."

Now that Ron had been brought up to speed, the four of them directed their attention towards Dumbledore. However, as Dumbledore is too arrogant to see that, for once, he is outclassed…

"Now that you've all had your fun, release us at once!" he ordered.

"Never learns, does he?" chuckled Harry.


	3. Chapter 3

"Yeah, I'd say that's the reason for all these problems in the first place."

Albus Dumbledore could not remember being frightened many times in his life. He was, though. Sometime during the conversation, he had been bound by invisible ropes of some sort. Seeing the looks and the struggles of the other teachers, he could guess that the same had been done to them.

"Mr. Potter, we will be forced to go harder on you if you don't stop this foolishness. Now, release us."

Harry, rather than complying, merely looked down at Dumbledore. Without warning, the Headmaster felt himself leave the ground and float up towards Harry. He stopped a few meters from where Harry was sitting with Ginny now on his lap.

Now that he was closer, Dumbledore was able to get a closer look at the two teenagers who were listed in the Ministry Archives as "dead". At this close distance, both radiated a feeling of power and confidence that was palpable, and quite distracting. This was disconcerting, as most wizards only projected a rather unimpressive aura when they were under great emotional stress. A select few could consciously call on their auras, but it was very draining. Wizards like the Headmaster himself and Voldemort always had a small presence, coming from unused magic leaving their bodies. However, for magic to be literally pouring from his body at every moment without him consciously doing so was hereunto unheard of. Putting this from his mind for a moment, he examined Harry himself. Harry was considerably taller than he had been, towering over most around him, and now was quite muscular, but not garishly so. Combined with his aura, one could not help but to feel intimidated in his presence.

Ginny had become a stunningly beautiful woman, with a figure many supermodels would kill for. The Headmaster had noticed from the moment that Ginny had arrived, many of the older boys in the hall had been thoroughly entranced by her. Dumbledore, however, begged the Gods that none would even attempt to talk to her, as he was convinced that Harry would incinerate them if they even approached Ginny. During Harry's time at Hogwarts, Cho Chang had, by and large, been regarded as the prettiest girl around. However, Cho as she had been then couldn't hold a candle to Ginny as she was now, twenty years later.

Another thing he noticed about the two was that they both had absolutely perfect skin. There was not a blemish to be found. Even more jarring was the fact that their skin seemed to have an unnatural radiance. Dumbledore thought that, had the lights been turned off, their skin would glow. He ascribed this to the magic coming from them in such quantities that it was visible. He gave the same explanation for the fact that their robes were swaying in a non-existent breeze. The most frightening thing, though, was the look in their eyes. The way they both looked at Dumbledore was akin to the way one would look at a harmless insect. It deeply scared Dumbledore that they could look at him as if he was of no consequence to them. He might have attributed it to insanity, but he had the awful feeling that they could back up their attitudes with force.

"I think it's time you were put in your place, fool," sneered Harry, and he waved his hand.

When Dumbledore awoke again, he found himself in a metal cage back on the floor near the rest of the professors, who all now sported glowing golden shackles and leg-irons. The cage he was in also was made of the unknown material. Now that he was no longer hindered by ropes, he draw to cast an unlocking charm on the door of the cage.

Only to quickly discover that the cage generated a null-zone, and any attempt at casting magic would be futile.

Resigned to the fact that he had been rendered helpless, Dumbledore could only look on at what was happening. Harry and his friends were apparently catching up, though Harry kept looking towards the doors as if waiting for something. The students hadn't dared to move; if anything, they were more still and quiet. The other teachers had looks of abject horror on their faces and were watching Professor Snape lay twitching on the ground, suffering from what looked like the after-effects of the Cruciatis Curse. Knowing Harry or Ginny were the only ones in the Hall who would dare to cast anything, much less an Unforgivable, he assumed that Snape had made an insult about either Harry's parents or Ginny's virtue, being topics that the despised old Potions Master loved to curse on a bad day.

Seemingly remembering something, Harry raised his hand, causing a person from the other end of the Hall, near the doors, to fly from their seat and rocket to the staff table, impacting on the front of said table with great force.

"Draco! I almost forgot you!"

Terror was clearly written on the face of the Malfoy heir who had been the Assistant Potions Professor since he had been discovered as the Order's other spy as he turned to Harry who had a demented smile on his face, which was mirrored exactly on Ginny's. In fact, come to think of it, every emotion seemed to be shared between the two. Curious…

"Pppp…pppottter," stammered Malfoy.

Harry's emotions changed like quicksilver, causing the air in the Hall to fall about thirty degrees.

"I heard what you tried to do to Ginny after I was arrested," he said in a soft voice that nonetheless carried throughout the large Hall.

"I fear that I don't hold with anyone attacking my wife. Now, I'm going to do something that I've wanted to do for a long time. I don't think you'll be harming any other women ever again."

He then raised his hand, causing Draco to start floating before him. He then pointed a finger between his legs and said, "Sectumtesticulos."

Malfoy only had the time to widen his eyes before he clutched between his legs where his pants were now becoming soaked with blood. He then promptly passed out.

"That was fun," chuckled Harry, with a look of insane glee on his and Ginny's faces.

"Now that that's been taken care of, I assume that you all know what happened, how we're alive, why we look like we stopped aging, and how we can bounce Dumbles around like a rag doll?"

At everyone's frantic nods, he snickered. "Alright, allow me to start at the beginning."

"Over the summer preceding my sixth year, I was angry. Well, angry is a tad bit of an understatement. I was raging mad. So, I started to plan. I then snuck away from the house and started to get the implements I would need to enact said plan. I got books, and then books and then some more books. I knew that for what I needed to do I needed both knowledge and power. I was severely deficient in the first area, and though I had some of the second, I was rarely able to access it. I contacted Ginny, since she was one of the few people I could trust not to go running to Dumbly when I started asking for really dark stuff. She also kept me abreast of what she was able to glean from Order members at the Burrow and from the traitors Ron and Hermione."

"Sorry mate, but Dumbledore can be very…persuasive, at times."

"I know, Ron, no problems. So, anyway, I started to perform many arcane rituals to boost both my knowledge and power. The power boosting rituals broke the blocks I had on my magical core that Dumbledore had placed on me to keep me under control, and then kept boosting it. If Voldemort had done all I had, no one would be able to stand against him, but he allowed himself to be sidetracked with immortality and the prophecy. Fortunately, I found the secret to both. As one's magical power increases, the breakdown of their body that results in aging also decreases. That is how wizards such as the Headmaster appear to be so youthful at impossible ages. The Elixir of Life is merely a substitute for natural magic running through one's blood. We then went back for my sixth year, Ginny's fifth. When we got to Hogwarts, Ginny and I took over the Chamber of Secrets and made it our home. She also performed the same rituals I did. At this point, though, we were not immortal, merely exceptionally powerful. On par with Professor Dumbledore. I knew this wasn't nearly good enough, as we would still age semi-normally, and our complete domination of Voldemort was not assured. We may have been his equal in raw power, but he also had half a century experience on us. I also knew that we would need to hurry and come up with a plan, as I had heard, from good sources, that the Headmaster was planning to have me thrown in Azkaban to beat down my supposed "independent streak". Then Ginny suggested the whole "let's fake our own deaths" thing. I agreed, as this would give us all the time we could ask for to become virtual Gods in both power and knowledge. So, we both created Dopplegangers, that is, conjured clones of ourselves, and put them in our places once the Headmaster enacted his grand master plan to imprison me. With the knowledge contained in Salazar Slytherin's library that we found in the Chamber, it wasn't hard."

"So the Ginny and Harry that killed themselves…"

"Were not the real Ginny and Harry. Right, Dumbly. I'm sure if you looked in those graves, the conjurations would have long since unraveled, thus, there would be no bodies. After we were both 'dead' and 'buried', we fled to Harry's mansion in southern France, where we were married and spent the next two years working. Finally, when we were eighteen, we managed it. After much searching, we found a Light ritual that would grant us supreme power if we were pure of heart and needed it for a great cause. We're both pure, regardless of what you all thought, and reforming the magical world was surely a great cause, so we went through with it. And it worked. There was no limit to the amount of magic we could use, and we were therefore immortal. This negates all spells shot at us, as the ambient magic around our bodies is so great that other magic just falls apart. That's why we don't look a day over eighteen, the age were we got this power. We also managed, by way of researching various methods of blocking the killing curse before we knew about the ritual and the 'null-magic' thing, to combine our souls. Which is both a good and a bad thing, depending on how you look at it."

"What do you mean, 'combine our souls'? Like a soul bond?" asked Hermione.

"Er, well, you know how a soul bond connects two souls that are destined to be together by means of a small link, almost a thread, between the two? Well, we managed to completely merge our souls. Essentially, we are one being that controls two bodies."

"So there's no keeping secrets from her, eh mate?"

"Afraid not, Ron. Trust me, don't try it. You two would be divorced within a week."

"What exactly do you mean by that, Harry?" demanded Hermione with a menacing tone to her voice.

"Um, Hermione? Are you trying to threaten the all-powerful God-wizard with an accusatory tone?"

"Maybe?"

"Alrighty then. Anyway, I meant that I doubt you could survive long knowing everything about Ron and visa versa. You would know everything. Their deepest, darkest secrets and desires. Every memory they have. Their entire lives and minds would be an open book to you. Could you really live with that?"

Ron was very pale, and Hermione was shaking her head furiously. "That's alright mate, we're just fine as is," said Ron nervously.

"Thought so," said Ginny, who was smirking evilly, "In any event, it takes a long time to learn how to separate our two consciousnesses, so for a month afterwards we were one, and our bodies did the same things at the same times. Even a year afterwards, we would still sometimes unconsciously mimic the other's actions. We still don't have the separation of emotion down. I'm starting to think that it's impossible for a soul to experience two sets of emotions simultaneously."

"Hey, we may not have been married as long as you two, but at least we have kids."

'And they'll probably be just as screwed up as you two,' thought Ginny.

Harry started snickering aloud.

'Ginny, remember, I can hear all your thoughts.'

'I wouldn't have it any other way, love.'

Everyone else in the Hall was just looking at the pair strangely.

"Yes, well, we also know that your method of flirting was and still is arguing with each other. How romantic," drawled Ginny.

"Hey, how do you know what we do now? You have been 'dead' for the past twenty years," queried the ever curious Hermione.

"We may have been dead," said Harry, "but we were still keeping an eye on you all."

"So you just watched while Voldemort took over!" shrieked Hermione. You let all those innocent people die while you've both had the power to defeat for almost twenty years!"

"Yup, that's about the size of it."

"Harry, Lily and James would be ashamed of what you've become. By letting all of those innocents die on some childish quest for revenge, you're no better than Tom," said Dumbledore, sounding disappointed.

Obviously Dumbledore wasn't expecting Harry and Ginny to start hysterically laughing at this, since he started staring at them as if they'd lost their minds. After a few moments, Harry managed to compose himself and sneered down at the Headmaster.

"You murdered everyone in my year save Ron, Hermione, and I, then blamed it on me so I'd get sent to Azkaban so you'd be able to get even more control over me, and then presume to take the moral high ground? Do you truly believe half the shit that comes out of that mouth of yours?"

Dumbledore looked flustered at this. 'Score one for me, I managed to flap the unflappable Albus Dumbledore.'

"I have no idea what you are talking about Harry."

"Only my friends can call me Harry, **_Albus_**, and I doubt that at any point we could have been considered friends. And you know that you do have an idea, as you will clearly say for our guests, Madam Bones and company," gesturing to the Minister of Magic and her Auror entourage who had just entered the Hall. "Now, _veritatemdic_," he said, waving his hand at Dumbledore, whose eyes glazed over as if he was under the influence of Veritaserum.

"Now, what is your full name?"

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Potter Dumbledore."

Harry looked at him curiously. "Are you related to me?"

"Yes, I'm your great-grandfather."

Looking down at the Headmaster below him, Harry's eyes started glowing ominously. Those closest to where the Headmaster was restrained started edging away, and the other teachers hopped away in their leg-irons. On any other day, it would have been a comical sight.

"Why did you not care for me after my parents died, seeing as you're 'family'?"

"I needed you broken down so I'd be able to keep you under control, and regular beatings tend to do that to someone."

"Who is responsible for the multiple homicides perpetrated on September 1st, 1996?"

"I am."

The silence in the Hall after these statements was deafening. Most were surprised Madam Bones did not send her Aurors to help the Headmaster, but they seemed content to simply wait at the rear of the Hall and watch events unfold. The majority of the teachers seemed to still be loyal to Dumbledore, all except tiny Filius Flitwick, who was now staring at him with a mixture of shock, rage, and disgust. He alone knew of the Veritas Charm, and the implications of what was being said.

"Did you have any accomplices?"

"Yes."

"Who?"


End file.
